


An Old Solution

by JustJasper



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Breakfast in Bed, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Prostitution Discussion, Sexual History Discussion, relationship discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 02:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3960790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJasper/pseuds/JustJasper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a lazy morning, Iron Bull and Dorian talk about prostitution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Old Solution

**Author's Note:**

> A sexual situation is referenced vaguely that could be interpreted as rape, though it isn't discussed in detail.
> 
> The term 'whore' is used repeatedly throughout in what is intended to be a neutral manner, not as an insult.
> 
> Below is some in-game banter, for reference (for the this fic, I've set this banter as taking place post-canon): 
> 
> Iron Bull: So Cole, you're polite, you're good in a fight, and your heart's in the right place.  
> Cole: It is? Good.  
> Iron Bull: I've got a plan. I think this could get you sorted out, get both feet on the ground.  
> Cole: I have to lift my feet, or the rocks make noise when I walk.  
> Iron Bull: Yes.... When we get back, you're going to spend an evening with a nice lady named Candy.  
> Cole: Can I lift my feet?  
> Iron Bull: She's gonna lift a lot more than that.
> 
> \----
> 
> Iron Bull: So how was Candy? You two have a good time?  
> Cole: Yes. She danced. Then I untangled the hurt that made her angry at her mother.  
> Cole: I helped her write a letter to send back home. She said I could call her Marguerite, the name didn't hurt anymore.  
> Iron Bull: Well, that was five royals well-spent.

“ **I believe that sex is one of the most beautiful, natural, wholesome things that money can buy.” - Steve Martin**

The Iron Bull still had an in with the kitchen staff, even though he'd long stopped tumbling them. They might have remembered the times he had fondly, or perhaps the occasional nights of drunken revelry, sans sex, were enough to keep him in good standing. Whatever the case, it was enough for him to be able to ask for 'something like lunch' and receive a small platter of fruit, bread, cheese and jam. Marta, Skyhold's head baker even seemed clued in on what he wanted it for as she pushed the tray across the table towards him, muttering something about 'Vints having a thing for grapes, her eyebrows twitching up and the corner of her mouth curling in a smile.

He was opening the tavern door entrance to his room again when someone called his name; he pulled the door until it was almost shut and turned towards the voice, a familiar face framed by orange curls, dark eyes with laughter lines at the corners.

“Morning, Candy.”

“Afternoon, by now.” She grinned at him, jutting out one soft hip and putting her hand on it as she came to a stop before him. “I won't keep you long, just wanted to give you your coin back, I never did have that boy you sent me to the other night. We only talked, and you paid for something much more exciting than that.”

Iron Bull waved a free hand at the coins she held, ready to drop them into his palm. “Keep it. He says he had a good time, you did your part.”

“Oh.” She gave a little shrug, and stashed the coins into a pouch squirrelled away amongst her ample bosom. “Cheers. He's a bit strange, but he's a nice lad.”

Bull smiled. “Yeah, he is. I'll see you this evening?”

“You know me, I'm usually around.” Candy smiled and waved at him as she turned to head back downstairs. “You two enjoy your brunch.”

Laughing softly, Bull turned back the door and entered. Inside, Dorian had stretched himself out on the bed, lying on his stomach with his head in the pillows, sheets revealing all of his muscled back, and most of his backside.

“I'm back,” Bull said, toeing off his boots and shucking his trousers one-handed, to no response. “I've got food.”

Dorian stirred at that, stretching and making a high groan from the back of his throat, a sound that reminded Bull so much of a cat, or a rousing dragon.

“Why you thought Cole would have any luck with a whore, I do _not_ know.”

Bull laughed, climbed into the spot Dorian made for him in the bed, and set the food down between them. Dorian eased against him, so Bull shrugged with the other shoulder.

“The kid is trying to be less like a spirit, and the way I hear it said, a working girl -hey, or a guy - is a good enough way to lose your cherry. It's a  _thing_ , isn't it? A right of passage into manhood, or some crap like that.”

Dorian frowned at him as he chewed on cheese and soft bread. “If you're not that invested in it, why did you bother?”

“He wants to be more human, I'm just trying to treat him like I'd treat a human kid. It's a bit of guess work, you lot do it differently than the qunari.”

“The qunari don't celebrate their deflowering?”

Bull snorted out a laugh at Dorian's choice of phrase. “Nah, not like humans. Reaching sexual maturity is less important than reaching the age you can age out of your apprenticeship and start working properly, join the army, that kind of thing. Plus, we don't have whores.”

“What? But I thought you just turned up whenever you needed a shag and got what you needed? Whatever your tastes, whatever your need, you could get it taken care of.”

“Yeah, from the tamassrans, who are not whores. Prostitution is forbidden by the Qun.”

“Not to be indelicate, but the way you've described them has the tendency to sound like prostitution.”

“Then I did a crap job explaining,” Bull said patiently. “Tamassrans don't get paid for sex.”

“Alright, but I don't understand why prostitution wouldn't be allowed under the Qun, if the attitudes to sex are so... free.”

“You can't regulate prostitutes and brothels at the level the Qun operates. With the tamassrans, everything is kept on record, logged, so they know who's done what, when, so anyone they flag up going to the tamassrans for more than they need. Someone spending too much money and time in a whorehouse is going to neglect their other duties.”

“I suppose that makes sense, by Qun standards.” Dorian didn't seem very convinced, but he rarely was when they discussed the Qun.

“They exist, but they're not sanctioned. Brothels can go unchecked, and the people who work in them aren't trained like tamassrans are. Things might get complicated, messy.”

“The Qun does so like its order.” Dorian sighed. “Why did you choose a woman to send to him? Cole's given no indication he'd be interesting in sex with anyone, let alone shown a preference.”

“There are only a couple of people that work Skyhold.” He took half a slice of bread spread with jam that Dorian offered him. “Candy's a good woman. She's not too young, she knows how to be patient, but she doesn't take any crap. I thought she'd be able to look after him, coax out his desires with kindness, if he had any.”

Amusement coloured Dorian's voice when he responded. “Basically, you chose a whore most like a tamassran, because that's who you could trust to get the job done. A motherly woman, strict but kind.”

“Maybe. Not all tamassrans are like that. They have different ways of doing things, doesn't matter how they were born or what nickname people call them, as long as they do their job. I get what humans and elves and dwarves mean when they say motherly, but when you're raised in the Qun, you just have... tamassran-y. Candy's a bit like a tamassran, but so is Vivienne, and Varric. Cullen sometimes, too.”

“Right.” He sounded thoughtful, and seemed to be giving Iron Bull's words some consideration. Something about that made Bull's chest flutter with easy sensation. “So, you going to try a man next time?”

“No next time. I'll think of something else to make Cole feel more like a regular kid. Nobody's got him drunk yet.”

Dorian laughed, and Bull resettled himself. It wasn't exactly surprising that Cole wasn't interested in sex, but Bull knew Cole hadn't ever been in a position to do it if he _had_ been interested. Bull had given him the opportunity, Cole had decided not to do it, and aside from being five royals down, no harm was done.

“Was it a shock to find, then? That people paid for a something usually provided by the Qun?”

“Not as much as finding out people had to pay to see healers and didn't get a basic food ration.”

Dorian looked like he was about to bring up the restrictions of the Qun, to accuse Iron Bull of glossing over the harsh reality of it, but he clearly thought better of it. They'd never truly fallen out over the subject of their warring homelands and cultural backgrounds, mostly because Bull didn't rise to the bait, but when he indulged Dorian some of their more enthusiastic discussions could leave them both drained.

“So, do tell,” Dorian purred, stretching again, twirling the end of his moustache idly. “What was your first whore like, once you were free of the Qun's restrictions?”

“I've never paid for sex.”

Dorian look at him skeptically. “Really?”

“I've slept with prostitutes, but off-duty.” Bull shrugged. “It's more fun when they want to do it, instead of get paid to do it.”

“The challenge outweighs convenience, I take?” Dorian looked amused, parting his lips to accept the grape Bull offered up to him, swiped his thumb over the plump flesh of the man's bottom lip before he withdrew the hand. “Would explain what you're doing here with me, I suppose.”

They sat in bed and ate for a while, and Bull wondered how difficult it would be to put a window in the room, something to let in the light and the air besides leaving a door open. It was hard to even tell what time of day it was when they were inside the room, since there was no longer a makeshift skylight.

“I've paid for sex,” Dorian said into the quiet, the shrug of nonchalance implied in his tone.

“A lot of people have.” The words were measures, careful, unsure how Dorian expected him to react.

“Not you, though.”

“They provide a service, people buy it, I just don't buy it. Not a big deal.”

“No.” It wasn't unusual for people to assume he disapproved when he didn't partake, but he could practically feel Dorian bristle next to him.

“I imagine brothels were the safest place for you to get any, considering the way Tevinter runs.”

Dorian relaxed some, turning onto his side and resettling amongst the pillows. “They were a convenient method of generating scandal. Nothing could be farther from my father's plan for me than fucking and drinking in slum whorehouses. Not me at my best.”

Bull moved the tray of what little food they'd left and then grabbed Dorian by the hips and dragged him on top of him. If things were going to get sombre, Bull was going to at least make an attempt to offset it so his lover wouldn't spend the rest of the day in reliving memories and mild self loathing. Dorian made only a token protest, then settled against Bull's chest, rested his chin on his folded arms.

“There were bathhouses. That was a lot more simple than making eyes at parties. Too much effort, in the end. Paying to do things that would make my father want to lose his lunch was a much more simple means to an end.”

“What was the end?” Bull carded his hand through Dorian's hair, pressed his fingers into his scalp the way the man liked.

“Forgetting, mainly. I'd left the best teacher I ever had, then when I finally pulled my head out of my arse, Alexius and Felix had disappeared. I didn't want to go back to the family house. There wasn't much else for me to do but drink and fuck, and the slums were the best place to avoid whoever my father sent to recover me. I thought fucking my way through Minrathous' most exciting whorehouses would force my father to give up. I always hoped the time I was the centre of attention at an orgy would get back to him. He'd have shit his smalls to hear that,” Dorian said wistfully, and Bull couldn't help but grin.

He'd never met Halward Pavus, not even when they'd accompanied Dorian to Redcliffe to meet him, but the hate reared like an angry animal in his chest when he talked about him. To know how close the man had come to snuffing out the light that was Dorian, that he'd justified it with caring about his son, with _love_ , made him want to do harm in a way he usually only experienced on the battlefield.

“You've only been the centre of attention once?” Bull teased. “Seems unlikely.”

Dorian hummed his agreement, tilting his head. “I am radiant. But orgies are usually a team effort, as I'm sure you're aware. Unless you plan on telling me you've also never been part of an orgy?”

“Nah, I've done that a few times.”

“Oh, do tell. I'll tell you all about mine, it was one of the better moments of my debauchery.”

“Too many hands,” Cole said from where he'd appeared quite suddenly – as he tended to do - to perch on the end of their bed, “holding, hurting, I said yes but it's not working, this feels wrong.”

Both Dorian and Iron Bull swore in two different languages at the boy's sudden appearance. Cole seemed unaffected by the fact that they were stark naked, paying no attention to Dorian's very on-display backside and probably, Bull thought, a cheeky glance of his balls. The shock of his sudden appearance quickly turned to worry as Bull processed his words, and he cupped Dorian's face with one huge hand.

“Hey, you okay?”

“What?” Dorian pushed himself to sit up, then Bull followed, his own modesty covered by Dorian sitting between his knees. Dorian snatched up the bedsheets to cover himself, frowning at Cole. “It's nothing. I just thought about a thematically similar incident that went south, it's fine, certainly not as bad as Cole is making it sound.”

Bull stroked his hand down Dorian's back, and had to fight the urge to shout at Cole to leave so he could ask about it, about too many hands and hurting. Cole had moved to sit on the bed fully instead of perching, legs crossed under him, and looking at them both from under the brim of his hat.

“Kid, didn't the Boss tell you not to pop out at people when they're in private?”

“She said I shouldn't talk to people when they're having sex,” Cole said slowly, “and you're not having sex, you're only talking about it.”

“You were eavesdropping?” Dorian huffed.

“I could feel the hurt. It's raw and untouched and I want to help. I'm sorry.”

“We know you want to help,” Bull said, “but if you want to be more like a regular person, you've got to expect people to be mad at you if you barge in on them.”

“But you're not mad, you're worried. Worried about Dorian's hurt, and the worry hurts you, because you don't know if you've ever echoed it. How can you know what not to do if it's just in Dorian's head? He has to share it, but letting it out might make the hurt worse.”

“Cole, stop,” Dorian said, remarkably calm, his muscles weren’t even tense under Bull's hand. “You don't need to help me with this one. Bull will help me, in time, when I share it with him.”

“Yes, he will.” Cole's face brightened, tone easing. “You sooth each other's hurts now, more than when it was fleeting, frantic. I don't hear your hurts as much anymore, but it was different today, so I wanted to help.”

“You don't have to worry, Cole.” There as real warmth in Dorian's voice, true affection for the strange spirit-y almost-human boy. “We're alright.”

“Yes. I should go now. You don't want me to watch this time, but sometimes you don't care if I see. You never call it making love, because you used to think it could never be that. But now it's because the love's already there, and you don't need to make it.”

“Right.” The word was startled out of Iron Bull, but he could see the corner of Dorian's mouth turned up in a smile, and it warmed him right through. “Thanks for that. New rule, okay Cole? If you want to talk to us when we're in here like this, you have to knock on the door and wait for us to say you can come in.”

“I will try to remember to do that, The Iron Bull.”

“Good lad. Come to the tavern tonight, we should test if you can get drunk.”

Cole considered, tipping his head up so they could see his thoughtful face. “I don't know if I'd like that. People can get very sad when they're drunk.”

“We'll see, huh?”

With a smile at them both, Cole hopped off the bed, gangly legs awkward, and then he was gone.

“We really need to get him to leave rooms like a normal person,” Dorian mused, leaning back against Bull's chest. “You're not really going to get him drunk, are you?”

“I won't force him, but if he want to give it a go, I'll look after him.” He dipped his head and kissed Dorian's exposed shoulder, coaxing a content sound from the man. “You sure you don't want to talk about it?”

“Not now, amatus.”

Bull pressed down the want to know it, because Dorian's secrets were his own until he chose for himself to share them. So he kissed up his neck and along his jaw, hand on his chest to hold him against his front.

“Then let me make you feel good,” he murmured. “Why don't you tell me about that orgy you mentioned.”

“You want to hear about other men fucking me, do you?” Dorian's voice was full of tease and promise as tipped his head to give Bull access to the column of his throat.

“Only so I can do you much better than they did. It's for your benefit, really.”

Dorian laughed, and turned his face enough so Bull could kiss him.

“ **What's a fuck when what I want is love?” - Henry Miller**


End file.
